


Apollonian and Dionysian

by shipwrecks



Series: Amoral Backbones [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Blowjobs, M/M, My favorite thing, snarky college AU, that is literally all i write but
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-17
Updated: 2013-01-17
Packaged: 2017-11-25 19:37:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/642310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shipwrecks/pseuds/shipwrecks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is not until Combeferre, a mutual friend, hosts a party that they are both invited to that things get interesting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Apollonian and Dionysian

**Author's Note:**

> Shamelessly self-indulgent college AU. Literally, this is just me literarily masturbating.

i.

He had not been particularly thrilled with his company at first. Enjolras doesn't even really remember how they met, is pretty sure it was a mutual friend's party because that's usually how it happens, and it is highly unlikely they have ever had an overlapping class, but he can't be positive. If he can't remember, he's sure Grantaire doesn't. But the point is, he's not actually sure he likes him. Would probably not make a deal about them hanging out. He actually doesn't. But Grantaire somehow keeps running into him at moments in his life when he conveniently has nothing to do (which is no small feat, Enjolras has a fair amount of commitments) and he's never been good at lying so he is stuck with him. They have so little in common that he is sure a venn diagram of their interests is almost two circles. He constantly brushes him off with quick responses, trying very little to hide this tennis match of a conversation does not interest him in the least and if it were more socially acceptable he'd drop the ball. Yet, Grantaire continues to pester him.

ii.

It is not until Combeferre, a mutual friend (the one that Enjolras has a sneaking suspicion is the reason Grantaire and he are acquaintances in the first place), hosts a party that they are both invited to that things get interesting.

He had been slightly aware that Grantaire was…nicely put, a lush. But Enjolras is not feeling especially nice tonight, as he has a debate tomorrow morning and only came because Combeferre said he would show up to the match and cause a scene if he didn't. He does, of course, realize that it is highly unlikely 'Ferre could be roused out of bed and shake off a hangover at the time his match is (1 PM), but this is what he chalks his attendance up to nonetheless. The point is that he now regrets this decision, is rather grumpy about being here, and Grantaire is wasted. And very much in his presence.

"You annoy me, Grantaire, and I suspect it is written on my face. Why haven't you abandoned this friendship yet?"

"Friendship, he says!" as if he is talking to someone else besides Enjolras. "This must mean I do not truly irritate you as you so claim. We are friends."

"I did not say that. Necessarily."

"Semantics, and poor ones at that. I will treat this burgeoning friendship as my holy quest, given to me by Zeus. He came to me in a vision, whilst drunk on the roof, and he said, 'Grantaire, he needs you. Incessantly bother him until he realizes it.'"

"You continue to vex me. And I hardly doubt Zeus pays an iota of attention to a man so clearly immersed in the cult of Dionysus."

Grantaire is not thrown out of step, never, but he is surprised. He would not have pegged Enjolras as someone even moderately versed in the Classics. And as it is his major, his entire academic pursuit much to the chagrin of his parents, this pleases him greatly.

"Leader of the choral dance of the fire-breathing stars, lord of the songs of night. Can I help you?"

"Doubtfully so."

"You dismiss me again, yet our paths seem to be bound to cross eternally. Are you destined to be my opposite?"

Enjolras rolls his eyes incisively; Grantaire's face finally falls, as if he was not sure he was serious until right now. Enjolras is not entirely sure he was serious.

"Neque semper arcum tendit Apollo."

It is a couple hours later, Grantaire has left him to stew over this snippet of a dead language and stew he does, when he works out what it means and where it's from. Well, it only takes him twenty minutes (his high school Latin is only sort of rusty), but he spends the rest of the time getting heavily drunk and tracking down the modern day Dionysus.

"You quoted Horace. In Latin."

"What do you take me for, an uneducated swine?" (Sort of, Enjolras immediately thinks but thankfully, does not say.) "I happen to be a Classicist. Learned in the knowledge of antiquity, including, but not limited to, its languages."

Something must change in his face, something akin to a measure of respect must show, because Grantaire is emboldened. He surges forward and kisses him. Grantaire holds his liquor better than him. Enjolras kisses back.

He backs Enjolras into an empty bathroom, which is so Grantaire of him, and makes quick work down on his knees. If he is indeed an incarnate of the god of madness, he is also silver-tongued and while used rashly in discourse, it is wielded sagely in more physical pursuits. Enjolras feels coils of invisible rope loop in the pit of his stomach as Grantaire is buried in his lap and he can feel him take himself all the way. The rope tightens until it threatens to break, he is sure the knot is weak and simply a thread, but then he bucks further into his mouth (if it can even be possible, he muses) and the rope slacks. Grantaire's mouth is red and shiny and he spits his come in the sink. He doesn't rinse out the basin.

The music makes the wall behind him vibrate, thumping in time with a heartbeat struggling to catch up to events that have just unfolded. Enjolras puts a hand on his chest in an attempt to slow it down.

Grantaire smiles and says "you don't have one of those" as he leaves him in the bathroom, drunk and confused.

_And not always does Apollo tend to his bow._


End file.
